Day Fourteen of the crisis gripping Westminster was an instructive one for anyone waiting for flickering signals of whether the full seriousness of the situation has yet sunk in. The country woke to the news that a senior Conservative had spent £1,645 of our money on an ornamental duck house. An apparently unruffled Commons passed the day indulging in an obscure piece of ritual, the so-called adjournment debate in which MPs can talk about whatever they like before they go off on their break. The house's deputy leader read out Sylvia Plath's whimsical poem about Whitsun – a holiday which has not officially existed in the rest of the country since the 1960s, but the name still given to the 10 days' leave on which parliamentarians are embarking today.

Readers of the Financial Times, meanwhile, woke to read a well-informed article – from Gordon Brown's "allies" – suggesting that the prime minister is about to shuffle Peter Mandelson to the Foreign Office. These "allies" further suggested that David Miliband might be moved to the Home Office, replacing an about-to-be-demoted Jacqui Smith; and that Mr Brown was considering moving Alistair Darling out of No 11 in favour of Ed Balls.

Assuming the FT has reported Mr Brown's allies accurately, there are two breathtaking aspects of the story. One is that the prime minister has used a newspaper to fly a kite over the reshuffle options he is musing on – was it only a month ago that we were promised a new, cleaner politics after the defenestration of Damian McBride? The second is the very suggestion that the foreign secretary should be an unelected peer accountable not to the Commons but to a House of Lords whose democratic legitimacy looks creakier by the day. A generation has passed since a peer was given this high office, and even then it seemed like an appalling anachronism.

Prime ministers in difficulty often seek to distract journalists with this sort of gossip, even though it is disruptive to governance, demoralising to colleagues, and of little interest to anyone beyond SW1. The idea that rearranging the seats around the cabinet table would do anything at all to address seething public anger is risible. That Mr Brown is seriously thinking of moving Lord Mandelson suggests that he has a very limited conception of the extent of the reforms the public is expecting in the wake of the scandals of the past month.

The fundamental issue today is that the link between the people and their politicians has been severed. In principle, the unelected upper house is an important part of the problem, as the public has no means to hold it to account. The practical danger of ermine-trimmed sleaze was shown by this week's suspension of two lords after they offered to amend legislation in return for cash, and by yesterday's resignation of the Liberal Democrats' chief executive, the peer Chris Reynard, in the shadow of allegations about his expenses.

Political leaders, however, continue to treat the Lords as part of the solution – a comfortable retirement home that facilitates the clearing of dead wood. That much is evident in the widespread presumption that the outgoing Speaker will soon be shunted upstairs. Peerages are supposed to be a great honour. In this case one would be conferred – along with a super-size pension – on a man forced out for not being up to the job. Several dozen Labour MPs (some of them fearing deselection) are said to be sounding out No 10 about getting a peerage after the election. Appointing someone a legislator in current circumstances is not merely to reward failure, but also to show contempt for the popular will. One final suggestion: Mr Brown should insist on all MPs and peers being back at their Westminster desks by the beginning of September, just like the rest of us. With a double crisis – economic and political – gripping the country it would be a poor joke for MPs to expect 10 weeks' holiday this summer.